Pages

Sunday, June 29, 2008

My dad's a poet

This is not exemplary of his most serious work, but it is hilarious family folklore that gets tossed around when we get together. This truly did happen. Warning to the sensitive folks: we lived on a farm, so sometimes animals died. We went through cats like we went through laundry, and this particular epithet was for an orange longhair we had named Garfield (so original). Family folklore refers to him as 'flatcat' since this incident.